I am scrolling through your tagged pictures on your Facebook profile. I don’t feel shame anymore. Want to know why?
I lost you long ago, and I am not significant in your eyes. You might even claim I never had you at all. Needless to say, I am just a pigment of light inside your castle, inside your kingdom, and that is it. I won’t deny it.
In my mind, I had you for a short period of time, a year and a half ago, but it is not you I miss. I refuse to say that I miss the “idea” of you, too, because it’s cliché. My explanation is more complex than that, or maybe it isn’t.
All I know, is that yes, I miss talking about literature and politics over black coffee with you. I miss outsmarting you in music theory, and you outsmarting me in history. I miss riding for hours in your white Ford Explorer. I miss running my fingers through your brown hair. I miss holding your hand. I miss calling you “sweet pea” and “honey.”
Yet, I accept I will never have you again. Although my heart holds onto hope, logic knocks me back into reality. But I think that is how it’s supposed to be. If I had you, I’d be another person; I wouldn’t be the person, let alone writer, I am today if you never left. Those who get what they want don’t have it as difficult as those that don’t get what they want.
Thank you for the fun while it lasted. Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for not giving me what I wanted in the long run. Thank you for choosing another girl over me. Thank you for leaving me.